


the whole world's waking up

by goinghost



Series: mask of my own face - autistic nureyev (read series description) [2]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Autism, Autistic Character, Autistic Peter Nureyev, Buddy Aurinko: your mom and mine (but mostly nureyev's in this case), Gen, Infodumping, Stimming, internalized ableism, of course peter's special interest is crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goinghost/pseuds/goinghost
Summary: ***PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE***He’d been babbling like some kind of child, a very unprofessional habit that he’d thought he’d managed to quell years ago. Worst of all, not only had he been babbling, but he’d been babbling to his captain. Buddy Aurinko was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. This was a problem for Nureyev, because he made a habit of reading expressions.--Peter infodumps. Buddy affirms. The author continues to project on one very project-able man.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko & Peter Nureyev
Series: mask of my own face - autistic nureyev (read series description) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985986
Comments: 25
Kudos: 131





	the whole world's waking up

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT:   
> i've debated orphaning the fics in this series for weeks now but i've decided against it to instead keep them on my profile with this disclaimer: i'm not comfortable with my characterization in this series and i feel like my approach to this headcanon has changed. i'm glad people have enjoyed them but i personally don't anymore. it's still fine to leave kudos and comments but just know there will almost certainly be no more fics posted in this series
> 
> guess who's back with more autisitc nureyev content! it's me, danny. i guess i'm a diagnosable peter nureyev kinnie now, huh. kind of went all out with this one. as an autistic with "can't shut up even when i'm in an unsafe situation" disorder, i put a lot of myself into it. i hope y'all enjoy!
> 
> title from 'at the bottom of everything' by bright eyes, which is a very good song that's on my carte blanche crew playlist! (the first minute or so of the song is a spoken word poem-type thing, just a heads up) 
> 
> cw for internalized ableism throughout, as well as some externalized ableism in the form of memory-mag saying things in nureyev's head. please take care of yourselves!

“But what the Archduke had not been expecting was for Ophelia Starr to have anticipated the extra lockdown procedures and hidden a small explosive on the Coriander Gem—if you’ll remember, that was the item that he’d put into the safe the previous day due to the suspicious note that Ophelia had sent claiming she would steal it. Except obviously she didn’t use her name because then he’d know who to blame. And so she planted this explosive device on that specific item because her real prize was worth much more than some silly gemstone that was barely the size of a fist. No, what she was really after was the Hyacinth Sapphire, which—as I’m sure you know—is the size of _two_ fists.” Nureyev paused to take a breath.

Captain Buddy Aurinko nodded her head, making a small noise of affirmation to show she’d heard him. 

With that sign, he continued, “And so the explosive device went off—-it was on a specific timer because Ophelia couldn’t get a remote detonator to transmit past the thick walls of the safe—but yes, it went off, and Ophelia was about to time her capture—Oh, yes, she got captured! On purpose! In order to enact her plan, she needed a surefire way onto the floor with the holding cells and so of course she decided to get captured by the guards as a common thief. Except Ophelia Starr is no common thief. So the explosive went off and—” 

Nureyev stopped. He closed his mouth. Something flashed in his mind before he could finish his thought. A rough voice and owl-like eyes chiding him. _Pete, you can’t just blabber on and on about whatever strikes your fancy. You need to talk with purpose. Every word needs to mean something. Who knows what someone could use against you?_ Unbeholden to the way his hands had begun shaking ever so slightly, the voice said, _First rule of thieving: never let your mouth run ahead of you._

Hm. He’d been babbling like some kind of child, a very unprofessional habit that he’d thought he’d managed to quell years ago. Worst of all, not only had he been babbling, but he’d been babbling to his _captain_. Buddy Aurinko was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. This was a problem for Nureyev, because he made a habit of reading expressions. 

He ran a hand through his perfectly tousled hair, tossling it slightly more perfectly. “Apologies, Captain,” he said, clearing his throat, “I hadn’t realized I’d let my mouth get the better of me.”

Captain Aurinko blinked once, twice, three times at him and he scrambled for his internal catalogue to translate the expression into something more meaningful before she opened her mouth and said, “It’s quite alright, Pete. I wasn’t aware of your...fascination with the criminal world. Although I can’t say I’m surprised, considering your choice in profession.” 

Nureyev was unsure how to respond. She hadn’t said what she was supposed to say. She was supposed to chide him for his lack of professionalism. She was supposed to—perhaps goodnaturedly—enforce some kind of boundary now that she was privy to the ways in which his mouth could jeopardize them if he were to let his guard down (something he had worked so hard to ensure wouldn’t happen. Until this moment, of course.) It was silly of her to encourage this habit. It went completely off script. 

But Nureyev had spent enough time learning scripts to understand when improvisation was necessary, and so he nodded his head and moved his shoulders in a semblance of a casual shrug (were it not for the way his hands shook with the slickness of blood that wasn’t there at the memory of that man). “Well, I’ll thank you for taking my ramblings with such good grace. Now, I believe we were talking about something of actual importance, yes?” 

“It’s quite slipped my mind,” Captain Aurinko said with a smile. Nureyev felt his eyes squint slightly trying to piece together what that smile meant. Hm. “But I’d love to hear how Miss Starr managed to finish such a dazzling heist, if you’d be so inclined.” 

Nureyev once again felt out of his depth. How she continually managed to deviate from the expected path was a mystery to him. People were predictable, once you learned their language, and Peter Nureyev had spent many years perfecting his accent, so to speak. To be in the presence of someone who managed to disarm him enough where he lapsed in the first place was worrying as it was. For her to then disregard the appropriate responses to, what? Listen to him blather on as if she didn’t have more pressing responsibilities as captain? It was unthinkable. He was completely unprepared for this. 

_Improvisation, Nureyev,_ he told himself, _just an exercise in improvisation._ “Are you…” He trailed off, trying to come up with an appropriate response, “...sure?” He finished blandly. 

“Of course, dear. When am I not?” She gave a small, practiced laugh that he recognized as attempting to disarm the tension he knew was creeping up his shoulders. Normally, he would not even let it get that far. _Unthinkable._

“Well, the explosive went off, if you’ll remember.” He took a breath. He knew exactly how to emulate a relaxed pose, he just needed to get his head on straight. There, lower the shoulders, unclench the hands, eyes wide and guileless. Perfect. 

He continued, “And Ophelia was well prepared for the ensuing panic. She’d managed to time it perfectly with her escape from the holding cell—all of the guards had rushed to the safe room, you understand, once the boom echoed throughout the halls—and so she cut through the bars with a plasma knife hidden on her person—a maneuver I’ve managed to pull off more than once, thanks to the carefully made records of this crime that I’ve observed—and made her way to the cluster of guards pulling things out of the safe in order to protect them. She donned a uniform that she’d hidden in the vents the day previous when she’d delivered the exploding gem, and managed to get one of the very same guards that had arrested her to pass her her prize!” 

Nureyev stopped to take a breath and was shocked to find his hands in the air. Oh. He’d been flapping them as he’d described Ophelia Starr’s daring crime. Warning lights flashed behind Nureyev’s eyelids. His thoughts turned to _d_ _anger, danger, danger_ before he could so much as blink. The babbling was one thing, easily explained by an enthusiasm for the art that had kept him afloat for so many years—both literally and financially. The movements of his hands and—he now realized—the bouncing of his feet were not so quickly dismissed. 

The voice of a man he hadn’t heard in over 20 years crept into his mind once again, _First rule of thieving, Pete,_ Never _lose control like that again. Look what you could’ve done. You were almost caught on camera, and for what? Because you couldn’t sit still. Disgraceful, Pete._

Ashamedly, he realized he’d let his guard down much too far. He was not safe, no matter how much it was insisted to him that he was. This crew did not trust him ( _nor should they_ , a small voice in his mind said) and he _should not trust them_. He felt frozen, suddenly, with a fear that was decades old at this point. He had trained these unfortunate patterns of behavior out of himself the minute he’d gotten away from Brahma, it was baffling that they should make an appearance now of all place, right when he needed to prove his prowess the most on the crew of one of the criminals he most admired. 

The silence must have stretched for too long (even that, he’d slipped on. Peter Nureyev had taught himself never to let the moment become awkward) because Buddy began to speak. He fought back a flinch as she opened her mouth, undoubtedly to condemn his behavior. 

“What happened next?” 

What? He must have misheard, in the state that he was. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve quite left me hanging, darling. I’m curious to see how Miss Starr escaped with the Hyacinth Sapphire.” 

_What?_ “Excuse me?” 

Captain Aurinko rolled her eyes, “The heist you were just regaling me with, Peter, do keep up.” 

“But—” He quickly tapped his fingertips together by his side in order to collect himself, “Captain, is that all you have to say?” 

She gave him what he identified as an amused look. _Amused?_ “I’m not sure what else you would have me say, darling. Unless there was a more pointed question about Ophelia Starr’s exploits that you’d like me to ask?” 

“No, I—” _I was expecting admonishment,_ he didn’t say. _I’m unsure how to proceed now that we’ve gone so far off-script,_ he didn’t say. _I don’t know what you want from me, Buddy Aurinko,_ he didn’t say. “I didn’t catch what exactly you were asking,” he settled on. 

She continued to smile at him as if this were a casual conversation and not one he’d plowed through like a raging bull, “Well, now that I’ve clarified, could you tell me how it ends?” He opened his mouth to try to wrap it up as quickly as possible when she continued, “And pay no mind to how excitable you’re getting. It’s refreshing to watch Peter Ransom let loose.”

He closed his mouth. If he’d said anything, it would’ve sounded strangled and unintelligible, he was sure of it. Better to let silence lapse while he composed himself for a moment. Nureyev cleared his throat, “Of course, Captain,” he managed. 

With a quick tap of his fingertips to center himself once more, he finished the story of Ophelia Starr’s jewel heist on Neptune as orderly as he could. He spent the rest of the tale watching his words carefully to make sure they didn’t get the better of him. In just 47 seconds, the legend of Ophelia Starr had been told once more. Silently, he congratulated himself on the efficient use of time. 

Once he’d stopped speaking, Captain Aurinko contemplated him meaningfully. He worked not to shrink under her matronly gaze. He opened his mouth to fill the silence she had left between them when she held up a finger. “If you’ll give me one moment, Pete, I believe I have something that may interest you.” 

He bristled at being silenced, but allowed her to leave and dig through one of the drawers of the kitchen. Nureyev started to bounce on the balls of his feet before realizing what he was doing and standing flat. Honestly, he’d relaxed his grip on his body for mere minutes and suddenly he couldn’t stay in control to save his life. That voice repeated in his mind, _Disgraceful._

Buddy returned after a few moments. She had something oddly shaped in her hands. It appeared to be a brightly colored jumble of ropes of plastic. With a scoff, Nureyev recognized it as a children’s toy. He couldn’t hide his distaste when she held it out to him as if she meant for him to take it. 

“What is this?” He asked. 

“It’s for your hands,” she answered, “You seemed uncomfortable when they began to run amok on you. This was just lying in the drawer collecting dust, but now it can be put to good use.” 

“My hands,” he said flatly. 

Buddy laughed, a quiet noise, “Yes, Pete. You tangle your fingers up in the loops and it keeps your hands busy so you don’t have to worry about taking anyone’s eye out if you don’t want to. Worry, that is,” she winked, “I doubt you’ll catch anyone on this crew off-guard enough to take an eye out. Though it’d be quite the tragedy, as we’ve already lost two.” 

With a barely concealed frown, he took the strange toy from her and moved it around in his hands. The plastic was cool on his fingers, and he felt an odd sense of satisfaction when he felt the tangle rotate under his grasp. He continued turning it over and over in his hand, relishing in the sensation. Hm, maybe the captain was onto something. A small laugh floated up from his throat, completely unplanned. 

He froze for just a moment, throwing a glance her way only to find that the amused smile she’d worn had made its way to one of fondness. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” 

Nureyev nodded, once again at a loss for words. The captain left him standing in the hall and traveled to her room. That smile never left her face. He wasn’t sure what exactly had just transpired, but couldn’t find it within himself to care all that much at the moment. 

Maybe he was not safe with this crew, but perhaps he could explore the notion for just a bit, playacting at the idea of comfort. After all, Peter Nureyev’s greatest strength was his ability to act.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/GHOSTZVNE) where i've been a lot less active lately due to life getting in the way. i've mostly been posting about my fiancée if you'd like some wholesome gay content in your life! 
> 
> comments and kudos continue to energize me more than any monster i could drink so feel free to drop some if you want to give me a boost!


End file.
